When I came into the rooms (of Alcoholics Anonymous) I had no idea what these people were talking about. But I felt that they were very interested in me, and that they for some reason, really wanted to hear what I had to say.
My disease is inside my head, between my ears. It gets crazy in there, like a bad neighborhood. My ism lives there, which may or may not have anything to do with alcohol. But the end of that (unchecked) road for me is a drink.
I told my sponsor about all the craziness in my head. About wanting to smack someone’s face into a counter because I felt they were judging me. I was waiting for some really inspirational words to come out of his mouth. But he just looked at me and kind of scratched his head and said, well, that may just be because you’re a fuckin’ alcoholic.
Resentment is the number one offender. Nothing will drive me to misery faster than unchecked resentment.